


Unexpected

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: Can you write a fic with Jaskier and a fem!reader, who heals an injured Jaskier after he leaves Geralt and they fall in love and get married. She watches Jaskier play his lute with a content smile and playfully says that he’s playing so beautifully as if it were his child. Which he replies In a way, it are. The reader soon asks if he ever thought about having children, in which he confesses his worries about whether he’d be a good father or not, which he tells her his family past to the reader.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Unexpected

Jaskier had imagined meeting the love of his life a thousand different ways and none of them involved this much blood and dirt. He’d limped into the space you practiced your healing, covered in wounds varying in depth and severity. He’d expected to know the instant me saw the one he would spend the rest of his life with but he had been distracted by pain. You were gentle and kind and talented, easing his pain quickly and insisted that he stay with you while he healed when he confessed he didn’t know anyone in the area. Over the next few weeks you grew to get to know each other better and Jaskier fell in love. Not the way he had before, less intense but no less sincere. Not in a way that made you out to be more than you were, just seeing you as you were and loving all of it. He loved you when you were tired and frustrated after a long day of work just as much as he loved you when you rested your head in his lap and asked him to sing you another song.

He’d considered how he may propose to a very special someone one day. One day far in the future when he had sated his thirst for new experiences and companions. He didn’t expect the words to tumble out of his mouth on a nondescript morning in response to your usual “good morning.” You’d seemed just as shocked but you crinkled your eyes up into that smile that always made him feel weak and said yes, repeating the word a thousand times, tracing them into his skin.

You’d never spent much time as a girl daydreaming about your wedding but you were aware it was a bit unorthodox. The man who had driven your fiancé into your arms was in attendance, that alone was a bit surprising though he’d had the kindness to show a week or so before to apologize to Jaskier who (in your opinion) forgave him too quickly. The horse being in attendance was also unexpected but Jaskier only said something about doing it to irk Geralt and you assumed it had to do with things before your time with Jaskier. You’d worn a simple white gown, Jaskier’s clothes much more ornate and beautiful. He had transformed your small plot of land into a masterpiece of flowers and candles and you were grateful to be loved by someone so talented at finding and creating beauty wherever he went.

You’d never thought you’d marry after such a short courtship, especially before you could talk about important things like whether or not you both wanted children first. You knew all too well how two people becoming parents when only one wanted the child could hurt everyone in the family and you did not want that for your child. In your honeymoon bliss the question left your mind, caught up in Jaskier’s touch and beautiful words and enjoying the attention you were able to lavish on each other without being interrupted by work. Your lives blended together seamlessly when you returned home from your trip to the coast. He entertained at the local tavern and sometimes went on longer trips while you stayed close to home to continue your work as a healer, though occasionally you would travel with him. When you were both home most evenings were spent with him by the fire working on his music while you read or brewed elixirs, replenishing your stock for the coming week.

You watched him this evening as he cradled the lute in his hands, fingers caressing the notes from the instrument with tenderness.

“You play so beautifully. And you look at it with the same love a father would give his child,” you mused out loud. He looked up at you, eyebrows quirked into an amused expression as he chuckled and looked back at the lute.

“In a way I s’pose it is,” he says. You realize that this is the moment and you twirl the herb in your hand nervously.

“Have you ever thought about having children? Human children, that is,” you say. He considers the question and the longer he doesn’t answer, the bigger the pit in your stomach grows. He finally looks back up at you, blue eyes tinged with uncertainty.

“I haven’t much, really,” he admits, “I don’t… know if I know how to be a good father.”

“Well who does, really?” you ask, encouraged that it isn’t a no but sensing that there’s something bigger than mere uncertainty going on.

“Ok, true, but I think maybe more to the point I worry I wouldn’t be good at it,” he says.

“Jaskier, love, that’s the… stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re the most nurturing person I’ve ever met. You’re loyal and sweet and brave, any child would be lucky to have any one of those qualities in a parent, much less all three,” you insist. “Where did you get the idea that you wouldn’t be a good father? If this is another Geralt thing I swear to-”

“No, no,” he says, holding his hands up to stall your rant and rising from the floor to sit next to you on the sofa. He runs a hand through his hair and licks his lips.

“I didn’t… have a good example,” he begins and you take his hand and wait patiently for him to continue. “My father didn’t beat me or anything but he… just wasn’t there much. And I was raised hearing how normal that is, especially for nobles. I don’t want to be absent from my child’s life but I haven’t seen how to be there for them. Or what to say or teach them or anything like. I just sort of figured things out on my own.”

“I’m so sorry, love,” you say, gripping his hands a bit tighter. He gives you a little reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I know that’s probably not the answer you wanted,” he says.

“I wanted the truth and that’s what you gave. I understand having… complicated family relationships. I didn’t have the best examples growing up either. And we don’t have to decide anything tonight. I just saw you with the lute and all I could think of was you holding our child with the same gentleness, singing songs over them as you do when you’re performing – though more appropriate lyrics of course,” you say. He nods and echoes your ‘of course’ and gives you a smile that’s a bit more like his usual self.

“That sounds lovely,” he says, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in closer. You rest your head against his chest, resting a hand in the soft nest of chest hair that peeks behind his undershirt as he strokes your hair.

Real love, real relationships, are never fully like what you imagine. But the reality, with all of its complexities and unanswered questions and puzzles to solve together, far outshines the most beautiful daydream or the best laid plans. 


End file.
